Driving through Northampton,5 on Sunday Morning:
Behind the clouds the moon
Shines, blanketed among unseen stars,
No longer eclipsed by the flood-lit malls.
Hidden - dark waters swirl pure below
The bridge. Above the town stand spare
Woods, black and sleek. Haggard
Streets blink a vacant, careless stare.
Route 91, lonely wilderness trail south, turns
East to face the coming of the blind sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem